


Under the Stairwell

by bluefallenfandomwallflowers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bottom Dean, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 18:57:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13060119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluefallenfandomwallflowers/pseuds/bluefallenfandomwallflowers
Summary: Dean’s first encounter with the ebony struck hair and the serene blue-eyed boy began sometime in late October, during the Halloween dance, behind the school’s stairwell. Ironically, a match made in Heaven with Dean adorning devil horns and a blood red cape and the beautiful boy appropriately clad in carefully crafted angel wings and white.





	Under the Stairwell

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun little oneshot type thing because I am once again stuck in the Hell known as **WRITER'S BLOCK**
> 
> Enjoy!

Dean’s first encounter with the ebony struck hair and the serene blue-eyed boy began sometime in late October, during the Halloween dance, behind the school’s stairwell. Ironically, a match made in Heaven with Dean adorning devil horns and a blood red cape and the beautiful boy appropriately clad in carefully crafted angel wings and white.

The flask hidden in his belt was out for the fifth time that night, and Dean was feeling relaxed and adrenalized, sitting on the bottom step in the dim light from the moon. Obnoxious music poured from the gymnasium, but fortunately Dean was safe the incessant hounding of Lisa Braedan and her posy of fellow shrill voiced juniors.

He couldn’t hide from everyone, however; the angel glided down the hall and stopped in front of him, head tilt. “Why aren’t you dancing?” He asked.

Dean licked his lips. “Found something better.” Holding out his flask, Dean flashed a bright smile. “Wanna lick?”

“No, thank you.”

Dean had never seen this boy before. Or, at least that’s what he thought. As the boy slowly settled next to him, clasping his hands, perhaps a bit nervously, he realized that he was the same guy who sat in the back of classes, who didn’t speak unless spoken to.

And he had a gorgeously deep voice.

“Glasses didn’t make the cut, huh?” Dean asked, turning his body towards the boy.

He watched as the boy swept a plush pink lip under his front teeth, before blue eyes met his. “My brother said they wouldn’t go with my costume.”

“Can you see?”

“I am wearing contacts.” The boy smiled for a millisecond before his gaze returned to one of curiosity. “You’re Dean Winchester.”

“The one and only.” Dean grinned. It quickly faded. “Sorry, man, I honestly don’t know yours…”

“That’s alright. I pride myself on slipping from one place to another undetected.” He offered his hand. “Castiel Novak.”

Dean shook his hand firmly. “Cool name. So, what are _you_ doing over here? Shouldn’t you be partying? Letting loose for once in your life?”

“I believe this is me letting loose.”

Snorting, Dean twirled the cap back on the flask. “How?”

“Because I’ve always wanted to do this.”

And Castiel leaned in until he was mere inches away and Dean stopped breathing. “Hmm?” Castiel hummed in question.

Dean wasn’t one to deny a hot stranger.

Their lips met in a passionate crash that left them both feeling reckless and excited. They eventually moved to a more private location under the stairs, Castiel’s back against the wall, Dean’s knee between his thighs. It was an adventure, exploring one another’s mouth as the party wailed on, falling into a comfortable pattern.

Castiel loved to whimper and let out soft moans when Dean carried his kisses to the soft skin of his jaw and neck, purposefully leaving a mark where it may or may not be discovered. It was certainly a thrill, one that Dean never wanted to end.

When more feet began shuffling out of the doors and into the hallway, Dean tore himself away and looked at Castiel with a smile, heart leaping. “Well, this was fun.”

He received a sweet smile and another few kisses before Castiel confessed that he had a curfew and Dean was forced to let him go, at the point of never wanting him to leave.

Waving gently, Castiel almost tripped down the hallway, punch-drunk, before his wings disappeared.

Dean leaned against the rail and sighed, feeling completely lost in a boy he barely knew.

-

 

Their second encounter was at the Thanksgiving festival, put together by the elite student council. Everyone milled around, flirting with crushes at the different themed games propped up, ready for tear down in the gymnasium.

It wasn’t half bad, but the only part of Thanksgiving Dean really enjoyed was the food.

The cafeteria wasn’t too busy, and the buffet style dinner was too fucking beautiful to pass up.

As Dean filled up his plate, he was aware of someone next to him, picking at the desserts, seemingly undecided.

“Those are the bomb,” Dean says, pointing at the cupcakes topped with cartoon turkeys. “I think they’re homemade.”

“Thank you for the suggestion. I feel flattered, seeing as I made them myself.”

Dean’s heart plummeted to the bottom of his stomach before shooting up and out of his chest when he turned and caught sight of that same dark hair, that same gorgeous voice drifting over him. Blue eyes sparkled, and Dean was here to finally and fully appreciate the entirety of Castiel Novak, in a clunky sweater and tight jeans.

Castiel was only a few inches shorter than Dean, but he still tilted his head in a manner that forced Dean to gaze at his lips.

“Well, uh, you did a damn good job.” Dean flustered and his plate full of food was forgotten as Castiel grabbed his hand and led him away, murmuring on about the cupcake recipe.

He was brought to his senses when Castiel ushered him to an empty classroom, shutting the door and pulling the blinds. “Perhaps I could make some cupcakes for you and your family to enjoy sometime.”

“That would be great.”

There was a moment of silence as they stared at one another, with Dean staring down at shocking eyes and smooth skin and pink lips, before Castiel was all over him, laying him flat on the teacher’s desk, kissing him wildly.

Dean reciprocated, of course, and when Castiel maneuvered him to the rolling black chair hidden in the dark corner, falling to his knees and prying Dean’s zipper down with nimble fingers, he wasn’t one to mention that maybe this wasn’t just some random hook-up and he kind of wanted to take Castiel out on a proper date.

Castiel’s mouth was hot and precise and just _fucking perfect_ , and his cock was harder than it had ever been. Dean slid his hands through silky hair, moaning uncontrollably.

When he came, Castiel’s hands gentle on his thighs, Dean was bewildered to see such an unbidden expression on Castiel’s face. He looked hot as hell, lips shiny, eyes wide, as if to ask, _did I do okay?_

Dean wrenched Castiel up and kissed him hard, tasting himself with a groan, and when they tumbled out into the hallway, Castiel slipped him his number and walked away.

Yeah, Dean was screwed.

-

Christmas was Dean’s favorite time of year, and what made it even more special was Castiel at his doorstep, holding a container filled with cupcakes.

His parents were out, and Sam was at the neighbor’s, and Dean was here, alone, with someone who he just might be obsessed with.

“To be more festive, I put Santa and his reindeers on them,” Castiel explained at the kitchen counter, opening the lid which let out a symphony of delicate scents that made Dean sigh.

“Perfect.” Dean took Rudolph and tore off the wrapping, stuffing the cupcake in his mouth without a second thought.

His cheeks reddened at Castiel’s face-- surprise and embarrassment. But before Dean could fall into a pit of despair at making such a fool of himself, Castiel was laughing very hard, bent over, gripping the counter.

“You’re an idiot,” Castiel says, cupping Dean’s face after he has finished laughing. He licked icing from Dean’s cheek and hugged him tight.

Dean could melt into that embrace, fall asleep for eternity in those arms, and that must be what love is.

And God, he was a wreck as he took Cas to his room, bobbing his foot over and over while Castiel examined the contents: a signed baseball from one of his dad’s teammates; that stupid poem Sam wrote for him in Kindergarten, talking about how Dean was the best big brother in the world; the clothes his mom folded a few days ago that he hasn’t put away yet; and finally, the devil horns slung around a picture frame containing Dean and Sam looking like overexcited idiots while a grumpy Bobby stands in the middle, dressed as Santa.

Castiel took the devil horns and walked over to where Dean was sitting on the bed, frozen.

They didn’t exchange any words as Castiel’s eyes poured over Dean with something heavy, curious, hidden.

Then Castiel was placing the horns on Dean’s head, knees resting on either side of Dean and suddenly he had a Novak in his lap, looking at him with something heady before kissing him just as passionate as the first night they came together on Halloween, during the Thanksgiving festival, the two dates Dean had taken him on which ended with a makeout session in the backseat and another blow job.

But at that moment, Dean knew it was something different, and tonight he would be losing his virginity, and he hopes Castiel was too.

Castiel tore off both their clothes slowly, revealing a tiny bottle from his pocket, and Dean nodded, his back on the bed, his legs bent, biting his lip from nerves.

It was a revelation when the first finger slid into him, and it was a jubilee when Castiel promised him that everything would be okay, and Dean had never felt so sure than when Castiel was inside of him and a crumbled, but heated, “I love you,” escaped both of their lips and a few blushes ensued before the real magic began.

Dean had a litany of curses falling from his lips as Castiel took care of them, jagged at first, and then hot and heavy and right on track, and when everything built up inside of him, Dean let it all go and roared into Castiel’s neck.

Castiel was close behind, and he had the most precious look on his face, eyes so bright, as if he had never experienced such pleasure. Dean certainly hadn’t, and afterward when Castiel told him the same, he felt so relieved and joyous, knowing that they had both given themselves to each other.

He felt like such a girl, but all thoughts relating to that pessimism vanished when Castiel curled up against him, locking their fingers, and kissing him again.

And after a long time where Dean was at the edge of sleep, Castiel whispered, “Round two?”

Who was Dean to say no?


End file.
